


Turn the Lights Off

by 00FFFF



Category: Hermitcraft
Genre: A bit of poetry, Angst, Blood, Demise Timeline, Depictions of Canon Minecraft Violence, Gen, More characters and tags will be added as I update, Non-human hermits - Freeform, Short Stories, Temporary Character Death, but only briefly, season 6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21743110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00FFFF/pseuds/00FFFF
Summary: The game of Demise is pushed upon the hermits, with no explanation as to where it came from, or why they're playing it.The consequences of playing seem grave, and no one knows how to stop it.As once demised, hermits are gone for good. Or so they thought.
Comments: 33
Kudos: 100





	1. Don’t go in there

Xisuma realizes just how long it is to walk over to the minigame district when not using an elytra. It’s been a good while since he’s gone without one. Doing so right now just. Feels wrong. Walking up to it slowly makes it more real, gives it more meaning.  
He feels something heavy pressing on his chest as he sees the Speedy Pines Racetrack emerge in the distance. Xisuma knows how much Ren wanted to finish it, and he knows how hard he’s been working on it, before he...

He stands in front of the main entrance. Some shulkers are still haphazardly strewn around. The ice in them must have melted by now.  
“Hi Ren.” Xisuma says. “How’s death treatin’ ya?” He forces a chuckle out of himself, but it doesn’t ease any of the tension. He’s come here to pay respects, but he doesn’t quite know how to behave, even if he is all by himself.

Ren’s gone now. Xisuma knows he has to accept it sooner or later.   
But he doesn’t want to let go of him. All the things they’ve built together, all the shenanigans and the games and their memories... He could’ve sworn that he saw Ren’s image when he was working on his new shop earlier that morning. Like a ghost, haunting Xisuma wherever he goes. He just can’t let go of the idea. That maybe, just maybe…

The door to the racetrack is open. Xisuma hesitates, but eventually musters up the courage to step inside and take the elevator up. _Ding!_ The noteblocks still work. He looks at all the newly-decorated halls and the signs with Ren’s handwriting all over them. And though it feels lonely walking around in here without him, Xisuma can’t help but shake the feeling that he’s being watched.   
The switch is already set to time a single lap. This must have been one of the last things Ren was working on, Xisuma thinks. He steps outside into the cold wintery air.

It looks so peaceful. The image of the racetrack in the middle of a pine forest truly is a sight to behold. It would’ve been great to play with all of the other hermits. Just imagining them all together sends a chill down Xisuma’s spine, and he realizes that the track is set to go.  
The boats are stocked, the redstone is buzzing with energy, and the timer seems to be in working order. Huh.

“Why not?” Xisuma finally sighs. He’d been so excited for this project to take off. _What better time to try it out than now? One last lap to say his final goodbyes to his friend._ “It’ll be fine.”

Xisuma grabs a boat and gets ready. He presses the green button and the countdown begins. He’s seen Ren test the mechanics a couple times before. He knows what to expect, but clutches his Totem of Undying tightly. Just in case.

_Ding ding ding._ The boat drops down and… He’s off.   
The wind brushes past him as he appears to fly down the track. It’s cold, but it feels good. It feels _excellent._ Ren really outdid himself with this one. Out on the course, in the blink of an eye, he swears he could see the man himself standing next to one the new Sahara signs. Xisuma blinks away his tears and keeps going.  
Paddling harder, harder, harder... Xisuma pushes himself, letting out all the emotions and frustrations since his friend died.

_Died._ Ren is dead. It feels so real now. But he doesn’t want to think about it. He’s got to go faster. Focusing his mind on catching the blue lanes, drifting in the right places, Xisuma doesn’t even notice what lies ahead of him.

“I really do love the trees around here-” _Click. Ssssss..._ With a jolt the boat comes to a stop. Having no time to register what had just happened, Xisuma looks down just a second too late to notice the TNT. 

A flash of white. The pressure hurts his ears.

“No! No, no, no, no!” The adrenaline of the situation numbs his senses as he’s torn apart and blown to bits, only to then be immediately brought back by the magic of his Totem. His hands are shaking, he feels nauseous and disoriented.  
A web of string, attached to more TNT surrounds him. The slightest move would set them all off.

He’s stuck. 

“I’ve got to get out of here-”   
Even in his current situation, he notices the presence of a dark figure staring at him from above. But he fails to see that the bombs have already been triggered. _There he is again! It's really him!_

“Ren-?”

Another flash. The world drifts away before he knows it.

A grim and dark laugh echoes in his mind.

He knows he’s done for. It all happened so fast.  
He’d come here to pay respects to his recently deceased friend, but ended up dying himself. How ironic, he thinks. But everything is okay now. As his world fades to black, Xisuma finally lets go.

  
  


_“At least now we’ll be together, Ren”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I’m intending to write short stories about all kinds of events that occur in the Demise timeline. Let me know if there’s a specific moment you’d like to read about!
> 
> Titles from ‘Turn the Lights Off’ by Tally Hall


	2. Artful dodger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“We’re gonna prove once and for all that Death does not control us._
> 
> _We control Death.”_

As Cub climbs the scaffolding, his nerves increase exponentially.

He’s done stunts like this many times before, but this was something else.

This time his life was on the line, and he _knew_ that they were watching. Their ghosts, corpses, whatever they’d become. He shouldn’t have announced what he was about to do, after all.  
But what’s the point of performing if nobody watches? At least he knew that Tango was down there as well. Cheering him on. 

_“Team Breath over Death looking for new members.”_ The Demon had jokingly said just before Cub made his ascend. He knew the risks, and he knew the rewards. This was going to be his finest hour.

_“I’ll survive this. I’ll show you. I’ll show you.”_

_Breath over Death._

When the sun is starting to set Cub finally reaches the top. It’s a _really_ long way up. He feels so much more vulnerable without his elytra on, not even daring to peek over the edge to see if he can spot his friend.   
The light that the boiling lava gives off shines ominously in the night sky. He can see that much without peering too far over the edge.

Everything is ready. He’s checked again and again to make sure everything is in order. The slime blocks have been tested, the TNT is in place, and the fireworks are ready to be launched when Cub reaches the goal.  
_If_ Cub reaches it, that is. Doubt is starting to gnaw at his thoughts. _This really is not the time nor place to be thinking about that._ He pushes back any regret, and forces himself to envision a successful stunt. Tango is waiting for him down there. He’s waiting to see his buddy make it, to see Mr. Invincible defy the laws of physics.

But something else is waiting for him down there as well.  
  


“Ready to attempt the impossible.” Cub tries to encourage himself.

“Three, two one… Here we go!”

He takes a leap and jumps.

He picks up speed faster than expected. His hearing is completely blocked by the wind whizzing past at an incredible speed. The slime blocks seem far away but he reaches them just in time. He bounces up and his insides do a little flip. _I've made it!_ Cub thinks.

The explosion beneath him sounds like victory in Cub's ears, and the next pad is an easy reach. He bounces up again, ready for the single slime block jumps. Nothing can stop him now. Flying through the air, Cub doesn't even notice all the mobs that had spawned around his challenge grounds.

He reaches the third jump, but something throws him off. He slips ever so slightly, and loses his balance. He doesn't have enough momentum to reach the next block as planned. Cub flails, the lava below him ready to swallow him whole. He closes his eyes and crouches.

He lands.

But not at the finish line.

Cub opens his eyes, and the gravity of the situation dawns on him.  
Who could have foreseen this. _Really?_ Stuck on a single block, in the middle of a pool of lava, with no items and no tools to help him out. He lets out a chuckle at the absurdity of the situation.

Cub looks up at Tango, and the adrenaline has already started to set. "Well... I’m still alive!”

“It sure looks like it!” The Demon replies, laughing.

“Now... I guess I'm stuck here. Forever"

"Oh no! Cub!" Out of nowhere, an arrow whizzes right past Cub's face. He turns to see a skeleton with a bow. Aiming it straight at him.

He's got nothing. Nowhere to go. Nothing to defend himself with.

“No-!” Another arrow hits him right in his chest, and the force of it knows Cub straight into the lava below.

The last thing he sees is a dark figure, grinning straight at him.

The feeling of his flesh melting off lasts far too long.

When Cub wakes up he's covered in cold, damp dirt. The realization jolts him into action, clawing at the ground above him, desperately searching for air.

When he breaks the surface, and pulls himself out of the ground, he's greeted by two familiar, yet dead faces.

"Welcome to the team, friend. This is a good look for you."

_A good look?_ Cub thinks, and he looks at his hands.

_Oh._

He looks up at his friends again. Something twisted stirs deep inside of him, and he can't help but smile.

_This was going to be a fun ride to the end for all the other Hermits._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The order in which I'll release chapters will not be final, so things may shuffle around a bit.  
> But it's okay because it's not exactly chronological either, so I hope you'll enjoy it and the adventures of demise with me!


	3. Bend the nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In light of recent events, the word about dead Hermits appearing around the server spreads quickly. They’re determined to see their live brethren join their ranks, but Doc has other plans. He is prepared to be the last one standing. Even if it means making a deal with the devil...

Doc sneaks around the graveyard. He’s not one to shy away from the Unknown, but he’s having second thoughts about coming here in the nighttime. It’s dark, he can barely see anything in this mist, and the occasional bat or phantom gives him an awful jumpscare.  
A waning moon shines at him from above, faintly illuminating the dirt paths between the graves. God knows who else is buried here. Doc shivers.

In the distance a building appears to rise from the mist. That must be it.

“Grimdog’s Crypt” He reads.A warning is scratched into the sign as well, but Doc doesn’t even bother with it. His mind is set on entering the strange building, and he can’t afford a change of heart.

He knows that his friend is no more. He’s dead. Despawned. Gone. Whatever you’d like to call it. The rational part of his mind keeps telling himself that. Doc _knows_ there should be no way for him to still be around. And yet.  
How could you explain the sudden appearance of the crypts? How did the demised Hermits bodies end up in this graveyard? And what about the dark figure that has been stalking the server ever since this awful game began..? No one felt safe anymore, and it’s with good reason. Ever since Ren died... Deathtraps have appeared. Pranks of deadly caliber. Coincidences like this just don’t happen.

Doc has to know for sure. Find out what in the world is going on. And most important of all, see if his friend is still there.  
That is exactly what had brought him here. Standing in front of this mysterious new build that looks as if it's always been there.

Doc hesitates for a minute. _What if he really is gone? What if I'm just seeing things? What will I do then?_ But he takes a deep breath and confidently steps inside.

The small shack is home to nothing more than a few empty chests and what must be hundreds of little spiders. The cobwebs hang low from the ceiling, getting stuck in Doc’s hair.  
On the other side of the room an old ladder invites him to take a look at the hole in the ground. The ladder indeed goes down into another room. A faint light from below casts an ominous glow. Doc wipes some of the cobwebs away, and tests the ladder. It creaks and bends under his weight, but he still climbs down. The smell of mold and dust fills his lungs as he descends.

He steps down into the small room. “Holy- What is going on here?”

A single lantern lights the crypt, but it’s plenty of light to see the state that it’s in. Roots from the dead trees above have done a number on the walls. Water leaks in, and mold has settled between the cracks. Blood stains the floor, and rats scatter about in the dark.  
The smell of death and rot is sickening.

Ren’s coffin is located immediately to his right. It’s rather large and made of stone. The sign on it sends a pang of sadness through his chest.   
_His body is in there._ Doc realizes. _Somehow, his old buddy, his best pal, ended up down here. Decomposing underneath those slabs._ The thought of it makes him nauseous.

Doc lays his hand on top of the stone structure, and a wind suddenly strikes up around him. The temperature drops drastically, and Doc can feel someone standing behind him.

A deep voice echoes through the chamber. _“Halt! Who goes there? Who dares enter the crypt of the Grim-diggity-dog?”_

Doc’s heart skips multiple beats when he turns around and is met with a dark figure he assumes must be Ren. His face is grey and he’s clad in long, dark robes, pointing a trident threateningly straight at him. Doc gulps and puts his hands up.

“Hey... What happened to your voice, man? Are you sore?” He tries to lighten the mood. “All good with you, man?” 

_“Everything is fine. It’s just a bit cold down here, is all.”_

“Oh. Yeah.” Doc shivers involuntarily. Ren’s staring straight at him, trident still pointed offensively, and it’s starting to become quite uncomfortable.

“C’mon, man. It’s me, Doc. You don’t have to keep pointing that thing at me-” Doc moves to lower the weapon but Ren swats his hands away. _He’s so cold._

“Your very alive presence offends me, _warmblood._ ” 

“O-okay?” Doc really isn’t sure how to react. He wants to be happy to see his friend still here, in one way or another, but his entire being _screams_ at him to leave. Something about Ren’s behaviour is giving him the creeps.

_“What do you want here?”_ His deep voice booms.

“Well- you see... “ Doc hesitates. Was this really a good idea, after all? He’s not sure if he expected Ren to actually be there, but here he was. In the fle- no, wait. In spirit? Was he even human anymore? It was just too confusing and surreal to even think about.

_“Why have you come to disturb me in my deathly rest?”_ Ren motions at his coffin. So his body really was still in there... 

Doc breathes in. He’s come so far, he can’t just bail on his plans at the last second. He turns to face his grey friend.  
“There’s this thing going on, Demise. No one actually knows where it came from, but there’s a lot on the line, right? Lots of diamonds at stake-”

_“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s a... sore spot.”_ Ren turns away, covering his face with his arms dramatically. Somewhere in that deep, grim voice, Doc can hear a trace of the old Ren. A Ren who was still alive. Who cared about his friends, and who never looked like he was plotting their deaths. Oh boy.

“And I’ve heard that you play a kind of role in that now, right?” Ren looks back at Doc over his shoulder. Is he interested? Has he finally got his attention? It’s so hard to make out what he is thinking. This ghostly figure looks like Ren, and kind of sounds like him as well. But something’s off... Something has changed.

Doc swallows and decides to just go for it. He’s got nothing to lose but his own life, right?

“So I thought: Why not come to my old buddy Ren-diggity-dog, y’know? And uh... Ask for a deal.” The corner of Ren’s mouth shoots up in a crooked smile.

_“A deal, you say?”_

“Listen, man. Help me out stay alive, half the diamonds are yours.” 

Ren doesn’t reply. He looks unamused.

“Bling blang, you know?” Doc tries. “You could pimp this place up! Look at it, it’s quite run down, I mean... You need some diamonds, I-” 

_“Silence, Warmblood!”_ Ren’s voice echoes through the crypt. He eyes Doc down who can’t help but cower beneath the dead man’s gaze. Has Ren always had this kind of effect on him?

_“Your earthly possessions mean nothing to me.”_ The grim figure approaches Doc, who is slowly being backed into a corner.  
Their noses nearly touch as Ren speaks. _“The only thing that matters for me now, Doc, are souls of the living.”_

The cold radiating off of Ren’s body chills him to the bone.  
“Souls... “ Doc contemplates. He starts to feel a little dizzy.  
‘Souls of the living.’ Right. _Right_. Really, he should have seen that coming. He was going to have to kill someone! What a joke! One life to secure his own. _Murder_. Doc chuckles uncomfortably at the thought. Was he really going to turn to _murder_ in order to win?

Ren laughs ominously. He seems to be enjoying the turmoil he’s causing.

“So if I bring you a soul,” Doc questions out loud. “you spare me, and help me win this thing?” Ren nods, the corners of his mouth curled into a sick smile.

_“Now that is a deal that I can get behind, mister Doc.”_

Doc lets got a shaky sigh of relief. His life would be spared, just as he’d hoped. But a soul? Could he really do that? He doesn’t get any more time to think about it as Ren coughs for his attention.

_“Let’s make it official, yeah?”_ The grim figure says, producing a piece of paper and a quill out of thin air with black smoke. _“I’ve drafted a contract for this kind of thing.”_

“Really? Okay...“

_“I am willing to make a deal with you, Doc. A soul for a soul. As long as you sign this infernal contract in your blood.”_ Ren laughs and hands over the items.

Doc smiles awkwardly as he skims through the pages. It looks legit. Legitimately scary, that is.

But the idea of not being targeted by what the Hermits have started calling ‘The Grim Reaper’, sounds perfect to him. The price he has to pay, is... Well... He’ll have to worry about that later. Securing his own survival is top priority. It’s the reason he came to investigate this place, after all.

“Okay, I’ll sign it.” Doc draws his sword and slices his finger to draw some blood. _“Excellent...“_ Ren whispers as he watches the scene. His dark eyes appear to flicker behind his sunglasses.  
When the deed is done the contract immediately disappears into a black smoke.

_“Now...“_ Ren says.  
 _“Bring me a fresh soul, and you shall be spared.”_

Doc nods and quickly makes his way out of the crypt, making sure to keep an eye on the ghostly figure that claims the identity of his best friend. He can hear Ren’s laughter echo through his mind, even as he leaves the graveyard. _Very disturbing, indeed_. 

  
  


_A soul, huh_. Doc thinks about it as he makes his way back through the nether tunnels.

  
_Actually._ He might have an idea of where to acquire one. Doc’s mouth curls up into a smile, and he heads straight back towards the location of his latest big project.


	4. Scales and feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“We’ve seen what’s happened to the inside of the DragonHead Quarters. You dead guys... You really don’t mess around.”_

He hadn’t been dead for long when his fellow Dragon Bros showed up in the Halloween District. 

Grian had been busy exploring all the nooks and crannies. All the crypts and the caves, the new shops. And most importantly, the building that he and False had conquered mere hours ago when they were still alive.   
Now, no longer afraid of death, Grian rejoiced in the fact that he could explore the world free of fear and pain. He was more than pleased to find the other Hermits, who he had thought were gone for good, were not gone completely.

And when the Bros showed up, he was intrigued. They were carrying shovels, headed straight for the grave where Grian woke up mere hours ago.  
They dug up his body, alright. Coffin and all. They even checked False’s grave, but didn’t take hers, for some reason.

Of course, being curious as ever, Grian followed them all the way back to the main island, to the Dragon Bro Cave, where they dumped his coffin in a freshly dug grave.

_They just grave-robbed him._

But it looked like they were struggling to start with the, um, reburial? The altar they built looks thrown together, and the headstone doesn’t even have his own name carved into it.  
On top of that, it looks like Iskall didn’t even show up. Grian is not sure if it’s because of the emotional shock of his fellow Bro dying, or if something else is at hand. He’ll have to spy on the man later on.

Grian chuckles at the thought. He, along with nearly all other Hermits, had thought that demising meant being gone forever. But they were everywhere. Watching. Waiting.  
Planting traps to try and demise the ones who still remain alive. Grian had always loved playing pranks on his friends, and this was just an opportunity to escalate them in more elaborate and intricate ways! The mere thought of an unsuspecting Hermit falling victim to a lava trap, or being poked to death by pufferfish hiding in the walls... it sends chills of excitement up his spine. 

He knows that since joining the ranks of the dead, nothing brings him more joy than the sight of a Hermit falling victim to his own mischievous plans. Demised, in whichever way possible. Considering the quantity of time he’s spent as a dead Hermit, that’s saying something. Yes, nothing would make him happier than to see the rest of the Hermits dead as well.

But not his Bros.

The two of them catch their breath after having walked so far with so much dead weight, and they really do look kind of... sad? Disappointed? They’ve prepared all of this in the spirit of Grian, a fellow Dragon Bro’s demise, right?

“Well then... “ Grian coughs, but no one reacts.

_Crap, that’s right. They don’t even know I’m here!_ That thought immediately brings an idea to mind.

“Is no one going to even attempt to give a eulogy?”

Silence.

“Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Grian scoffs, but then immediately breaks into laughter as he walks up the stairs.

“Fellow Bros... “ He begins hesitantly.  
“We are gathered here today, to mourn for the loss of a Bro... me.”  
Grian snickers at the absurd situation he’s found himself in. He knows that his former Bros can’t see him, but it’s quite weird to be giving your own eulogy at your own funeral, he has to say.

“It’s a sad day,” He continues, not noticing an alarmingly colorless False sitting in a chair right next to where the other Bros have taken a seat.  
“but I would be honored, if you, my Bros, would lay me to rest. Here, in the Bro-Cave.”

Neither BDubs nor Mumbo say anything. The tension is high, despite Grian trying to ease some of it with his speech.

“But I’ve also got something to say.” He perks up.  
“Even though I’ve lost my dragon head, I still want to be considered a Bro. So, that means that I will not demise any Bro.” He puts his hand to his heart, but it’s eerily silent.

Both his heart, and the room are. BDubs and Mumbo look at each other, and then at his coffin in the freshly dug grave. It must have been tough to dig that all out through the hard stone floor down here, Grian thinks.

“Come on. Does nobody want to say a few words about me?”

As if he had some amazing dragon-like sixth sense, BDubs stands up and walks towards the front of the room. 

“If you don’t mind, I’ve got something to say.”

Grian eyes him suspiciously. Wasn’t it BDubs who could sense the presence of Jevin, as well? _That’s kind of sus._ Grian takes place in the man’s chair.

BDubs appears to look straight at Grian when he starts speaking. He may be dead, but this really is giving him the creeps.

“Grian was a great leader. He is the one that converted me. Um... I was normal, and lost. And one day, I was found. With a dragon head. I was a part of this team.”  
“In his death and loss, I vow to be the _new_ leader of this group!” - _“Huh?!”_ Grian definitely didn’t expect _that_ out of his Bro.  
“I will lead you with great skill, and-”

_“That’s not Bro!”_ Grian yells, knowing full well that it’s no use.

But BDubs stops.

“No?”

_Did he really hear him?_

“Why not?”

_“That’s not Bro, dude. You can’t do that!”_

“You wouldn’t do that?” He replies. Grian can’t believe it. BDubs is staring straight at him.

All this time. _All this time,_ BDubs has heard him. And seen him, too. How embarrassing! _He can see dead people!_ What was Grian to do with this information? Could he use this to his advantage somehow? If he’d have stuck with his fellow Bro, would he not have demised at all? Questions fill his head, but silence fills the cave.

“May he rest in peace, then.” BDubs says after a while. He nods at Grian’s coffin.

“BDubs, that’s not Bro, Bro. Pretending to talk to...-” BDubs breaks his gaze off of Grian and gasps. Mumbo wipes the tears that have started to appear in his eyes. _Awww. He really does care about me,_ Grian thinks.

The man hurries towards his crying Bro. “Oh no, Mumbo, I didn’t mean to- Look, I’m sorry, Bro. I won’t do it again, I promise.” Mumbo sniffs and pulls his fellow Bro in for a Bro-hug.

Grian winks at BDubs. If he heard his entire speech, and he _must have_ because BDubs winks straight back at him, then it also means that he knows about Grian’s promise. He knows that Grian will not try to demise his fellow Bros. He knows that they’re safe, at least from him.

“You want to say anything, MumBro?”

Mumbo nods and walks up the steps. He looks sombrely at the coffin beneath him.

“So, I’ve been a Dragon Bro now for about a week, and. Now that Grian’s de-” He pauses for a bit. _Oh, his heart.  
_ “Now that Grian’s dead, I feel confident in saying that…” Grian is eager to learn what kinds of words his Bro has for him.

“I’m still sure this is a cult."

_“It’s not a cult!”_ Grian yells.

“Yeah, it is. “ BDubs replies. _Oh, you sneaky little-_

“Okay, that’s all my words for today. Grian was alright. He seemed OK. My chair is bigger now and there’s nothing he can do about it.” Mumbo walks down again and takes the seat next to BDubs. Grian is dumbfounded.

The two alive team members gather around Grian’s grave. They look down at an oak-colored coffin. Grian too gets up to take a peek.  
His body must be in there. Or what is left of it, anyway. He’s glad he wasn’t there anymore to see the aftermath of that whole kerfuffle.

“At funerals, people normally put things that remind you of them in the grave, right? Is that what you do?” Mumbo says.   
BDubs gently lays down a piece of cooked steak on top of the coffin, nodding.  
Mumbo chuckles and lays down a couple of firework rockets as well. _This is so weird._ Grian can’t help but laugh.  
Sighing, Mumbo places his trident, the Fork of Friendship, in there as well. He nods at BDubs, and they shovel the dirt back in, covering everything. Something about this scene nags at Grian’s now unbeating heart.

Then he finally notices the other former Dragon Bro. She’s standing behind BDubs, who looks like he hasn’t noticed her presence yet.

“Wait, don’t you want your funeral here, as well?” 

“Nah, I’ve dug my own grave already.” She snickers. “It’s over at the place where I died, actually.”

“So you dragged your own body-”

“All the way over there. Yeah.”

The two dead Dragon Bros sit down on the steps behind the headstone.

“Well then, do you want to say anything for _my_ funeral?” Grian asks her.

“Y’know what? I was on your side then, and I’m still on your side now. So if you’re a Secret Dragon Bro, then so am I.” 

“Bro... “ Grian’s undead heart has been touched by too many people in one day.

“I’ll promise not to kill any Bros.”

“Oh, thank you, oh thank God, okay...” BDubs exhales a sigh of relief. The two dead Bros snicker and start making their way out of the Cave.

“So, where do we go from here?” False asks, once they’re outside.

“We’re going back.” Grian replies.

  
  


“Back to the Deadquarters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this slightly more comical chapter, bro! Looks like things are really heating up in this demise game, huh? I’m eager to write more and more!


	5. Monster party

It’s everywhere.

Blue slime.

Like a trail, all across the server.

It’s there, dripping from the ceiling when BDubs enters his castle.  
It’s stuck to Mumbo’s many beacons, in between the iron blocks.  
Stuck underneath pressure plates and in the hinges of iron doors. The blue slime is unmistakably Jevin’s.

Every time they’d find a trace of him, the Hermits would gather to discuss their findings. They knew that their slimy friend had died, and that no one would have the audacity to pull off a prank this sick. No one dared to mess with mourning Hermits like that.

Each sticky bit of slime sent a message.

The increasing worry of his friends brought joy to Jevin’s heart. He, of course, had intentionally left his marks behind everywhere. Letting them know that he’s still here.  
Biding his time.

The traps he set may be fake, but they worked wonders in sending the living into spirals of paranoia. Once they’re accustomed to the sight of the ‘fake’ traps, he would replace them with real ones.

With each ominous sign he wrote, every button he stuck to the walls and floors, something inside him was satisfied.  
 _More_ pressure plates.  
 _More_ trapped chests.

_More._

Flying around the shopping district, eyes always on the lookout for suitable spots for obvious red herrings.

While some had still been mourning, the sight of such a familiar color would send a pang of hurt through their chest.  
At first it was heartbreak, but it quickly turned into fear.

And they would know.

They would know that death was coming for them. Closing in on the Hermits who gradually stopped going outside, instead opting to hide in their bunkers, scared. _Trapped_.

Thinking they’re safe in there. _Like cattle in a cage._ Jevin laughs at the idea.

_He’s got them right where he wants them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermits are dropping faster than I can keep up with :')  
> And yall... Your comments absolutely melt my heart! I know this is just a short little chapter, but there'll be plenty more!


	6. Easy does it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I feel... I feel so... So cold. So... So empty._
> 
> _I feel so... hollow.”_

After all the effort they went through.

They'd been so careful, taking all measures and steps necessary to stay safe. To stay alive, win this game, and help their fellow Hermits along the way as well.

And look where that got them.

Now they'd have to re-arm all of the traps. Create new puzzles, and help the Hermits in a…different way.

Tango had known that his dead friends were still there. Any demon would recognise supernatural happenings in an instant.  
After all, _someone_ had to have set all those traps in the first place, right? And as soon as Cub had kicked the bucket, the sheer amount and level of them increased exponentially.

And when news of Jevin’s death spread across the server, ‘fake traps’ popped up all over the place. Scare tactics were _classic_ him.

He'd figured that out, alright.

And he supposes the others were right for being so paranoid all the time. Slow and steady wins Demise.

With all their redstone expertise, Tango knew that he and Impulse would be the _perfect_ team to go and investigate these mysterious redstone contraptions. After some of his friends had triggered them on accident, and especially after Scar fell for one and died himself, Tango knew something had to be done.

Cue _Impulse and Tango’s Safety Bomb Squad._ Oh, how Tango loves his acronyms.

After investigating and disarming for a good while, he'd recognise Cub's work anywhere.

But he should have known, that with a track-record of clumsiness like his, slipping and falling off of tall buildings, and just straight-up doing silly things that get him into trouble, that _something_ was bound to happen.

And happen it did.

Death.

But it wasn’t all bad, Tango had to admit.

Sure, he was always cold. No matter how close to lava he was, his body never seemed to warm up. It was an unwelcome change to his usual hot temperatures.  
His exposed ribs freaked him out at first as well, and the stiffness of rigor mortis which he had to combat every time he got up wasn’t easy either.

But you get used to that sort of thing after a while.

Plus, Impulse joined the land of the Demised right alongside him. His partner in crime, now showing off that big brain of his to the world.  
Tango hadn’t seen a good chunk of his friends before dying. With how on edge he’d always been, he never really stopped to think about how much he missed them. 

Cub and Scar had come to welcome him when he awoke in his grave.  
And how weird it was to he finally see them again. Grey. Void of all color. They looked different and yet, perfectly normal. Something inside of Tango had changed, too. Like someone had flipped a switch. A new kind of instinct.

Bloodlust?

No, he wouldn't go to the lengths of creating a chicken-based game in an inescapable room just to kill his regrettably alive friends.

Would he?

At first, Tango was determined to try and continue to live life as normal as possible.  
He wanted to finish his base, to gather all the resources he needed without having to tippy-toe around the shopping district. If the shops were stocked, at all.  
He didn’t care about keeping his existence a secret. All the Hermits could come watch his tower magically complete itself, for all he cared.

But something inside him had changed since that fateful day.

Tango may have been mischievous when alive, and he may or may not have built the single most Evil looking base before, but he wasn’t out for blood. He wouldn’t set actual death-traps in the bases of the other Hermits.  
But with every addition he made to his own base, ideas of traps would flash through his mind. Redstone timers, dispensers that would stop at nothing to drop lit bundles of TNT into the room below, and observers that would send a signal once a Hermit tried to escape their fate... At one point they’d become so distracting that Tango just _had_ to do something about it.

And oh... What a treat it was to work on.

The idea of his victim falling down here, subjected to paranoia, growing insanity, and haunting music... And all on a timer that would count down to their death! It was glorious. The added End Crystal was the cherry on top of a delicious explosives-filled cake. Tango had to admit, he’d never enjoyed the idea of killing his friends more than he did now.

And when it was set and ready to go, he just couldn’t get back to work.

He couldn’t stop thinking about helping other Hermits demise, as well. There was no more pleasure to be gained from constructing his giant spiraling dragons over at his base. The underground village would be ‘under construction’ for a looong time.

Tango liked to meet up with other demised Hermits almost every day, discussing different techniques to catch the warmbloods. How had they survived this long? And how could they get them to stop doing that? It was an absolute treat to talk with like-minded people.

Of course, he’d been a little careless with his traps as well.

Tango had set them off on multiple occasions. Sometimes even falling for traps that the other Demised had set. But the thrill of death, the sound of clocks ticking down, the smell of gunpowder. It was all worth it.

And then he got his first victim.

_This turned out better than he could have hoped for._

Oh yes. 

Death becomes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for reading!  
> This was one of my favorite things to write, Tango's episode at the time really caught me off guard, not gonna lie!


	7. Shut the closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Who’s the guy who can conquer death?_

One by one  
They bite the dust  
They lose their faith  
And though they trust  
At first the dead  
Harmless enough  
Start to rise  
Make landscapes rough

Their friends all gone  
But not quite still  
They roam around  
And never will  
Let down their guard  
Plan ahead  
To keep safe from  
His friends undead

He quickly flees  
And hides away  
Not to be seen  
For quite some days  
But loneliness  
As you may know  
It’s hard to guess  
When you must go

As they expired  
Grim to the core  
Their ghosts emerged  
And reaped for more  
Days turned short  
For he must flee  
Chased for sport  
Or filled with glee

Not a glimpse  
In these dark times  
Prosperity  
Changed for lies  
Supplies run low  
To compromise  
His life at stake  
And acting wise

His pals taken  
He returns  
Not for revenge  
Instead he learns  
Their absence, true  
But not at peace  
A glance inside  
Before he leaves

Now, he’s a man no fool would get  
And curiosity never killed Schrödinger’s cat  
Within those wretched halls once more  
Dodging traps and tricks galore

Though he rescues his new friend dear  
In his hubris, his mind unclear  
The warning above the door unread  
Cocky as he trips the thread

Now joining their darkened ranks at last  
He’s welcomed with joke and tasked  
To kill what remains. A wonderful plan  
Death conquers Joe, once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello hello! Back from the dead (heh). We’re halfway through all the chapters that I have planned already :o  
> I hope you enjoyed this part. It’s a bit of an experiment, kinda fitting for the JoeHills Experience. It’s good to be back and working on this with a fresh eye again!


	8. Tails in tethers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Well done to the both of you."_
> 
> "I hope you're happy."  
>  _"You two look upset."_
> 
> "I've backstabbed somebody…"
> 
> _“You’ll get over it.”_

BDubs peeks over the edge. Time seems to slow down as he watches her fall to her death. He looks down at his shaking hands, now slowly being taken over by the same dark scales on his head. Monstrous and inhuman. He supposes it suits him. He’d pushed her, after all.

He’s a murderer.

It was either her or Keralis. Her or his Dragon Bros. He couldn’t betray either of them! He’s starting to feel lightheaded. BDubs has to lean against the concrete wall to keep himself upright. In the corner of his eye he spots Xisuma’s grey figure. Smiling. His voice sends chills down his spine.

_“Good job, boys.”_

Then, all at once, time speeds up again. He’s pulled back into reality. The reality he has to face.

“Gosh, okay... You take- I, hmm...“ BDubs isn’t sure what to say. “This is, I mean... It had to be done.”

They really just did that.

They killed Cleo. _He_ killed Cleo.

“Oh, no. Oh, no... I feel so... I-” Keralis looks at him with accusing eyes. Or is it guilt? BDubs finds he can’t really place his own emotions himself.  
“It’s _your_ fault, dude! You did this! You did this... You and your stupid little ‘Deal with X’, always saying how he’s watching us! This is your fault!” Tears well up in Keralis’s eyes. He’s shaking.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! We’re gonna be okay. Cleo hasn’t been herself lately, y’know? We just... We just helped her get back to her old self.” BDubs tries to justify the situation, but who was he kidding? This was bad. Real bad.

“Bubbles...“

“You know I was pressured into doing it! _We_ were pressured into doing it!” BDubs turns to face his friend and colleague. It feels like a fever dream, his mind refusing to accept the reality of the situation.  
“Keralis, you know that-”

“I don’t want to hear it! You keep saying it’s either us or her or us or him and I don’t know what to think anymore! Bubbles, something’s seriously changed when that dragon head got fused to you!” 

BDubs attempts to approach Keralis, but he backs away in fear. BDubs can feel the sting of tears prickling in his eyes, but he blinks them away.

“I want to believe you, but the Shashwami that I knew would _never_ do such despicable things.” He says softly.  
“Keralis, please. I’m not making this up, I _promise_. I’ve been telling you, it’s the head! My vision, it’s changed, I-”

“You have to get rid of it.” Keralis says with a shaky voice.  
“Bubbles, that head has only caused us trouble. It’s bad luck. Get rid of it.”

“You know I can’t.”

“...”

Keralis takes a step towards him. His eyes look glazed over.

“There’s one way, right?” 

“Whoah whoah whoah whOAH!” BDubs steps back, teetering eerily close to the edge of the trap. “That’s bad. You know this is a bad idea, right?” 

Keralis takes another step.

“You’ve made me backstab a friend.”

“Keralis. _Keralis!_ This has gone too far!” 

“Always saying that X is still here. Always pretending to talk to him. _Always_ giving us orders through him. Why can’t you just accept reality?”

BDubs gulps.

“Shashwami is dead. He isn’t here. He’s in your head.”

“But he _is_ here!” BDubs looks around frantically, trying to catch a glimpse of the dead man. He seems to have disappeared into thin air. “I don’t understand! He was here just a minute ago, he was watching the whole thing!”

“ _Bubbles._ ” Keralis grabs BDubs by the shoulders. With a snap he turns his attention back and stares into Keralis’ eyes. The heels of his feet no longer supported by solid ground.  
One push and it would be all over for him.

No more dragon head. No more Dragon Bros.

No more life.

He would turn grey, just like all the other Hermits before him. Would he want to demise his friends, too, then? Would he come for Keralis? Would he want to get his revenge?

BDubs holds his breath. This was it.

  
  
  


But Keralis pulls the man into a desperate hug.

BDubs hugs back, finally letting the tears flow. Emotions have been all over the place for over a month now. Things were bound to escalate at one point or another.  
The two men stand there, crying, holding onto each other for dear life.

“I miss him too, Bubbles.” Keralis whispers.

BDubs wants to tell him _no_ . _He really **is** still here_, but he can’t find the energy to speak up. His throat feels dry. What if he _has_ gone crazy? What if he _did_ dig that trap by himself? What if he _did_ make it all up? He feels himself slipping away again, but he has to stay strong. They’ve got a mess to clean up, first and foremost.

The two of them make their way down to the bottom of the trap.

“Did you build this, Bubbles?” 

BDubs doesn’t reply. Keralis wouldn’t believe him. He doesn’t want to hurt him any more than he already has, either.

When they arrive at the bottom, BDubs lights a torch, shining light on the crime scene at hand. He doesn’t want to look. He just wants to get it over with as fast as possible, and forget that it ever happened. He wants to mourn and feel guilty and repent, but he has no time for that now.  
The smell of sulfur and blood penetrates his every sense, it makes him sick to his stomach. He can feel Keralis tense up behind him.

“Where’s Cleo?”

Indeed, when BDubs looks around, he can see all kinds of things. Blood and bits on the walls, remnants of explosives, wilted and burnt wither roses, debris, gravel…

But Cleo’s body is nowhere to be found.

Fear seeps through their bones as both men realize.

Keralis turns to BDubs, his voice fearful but lined with certainty.

“Bubbles, where is X?”


	9. Freaky creatures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Wait a second... This has got Curse of Binding on it!”_

Grian paced around the Architech bunker. He passes the spot where Iskall converted him not too long ago. He feels... a sense of longing? A craving? For what, though? 

After getting Iskall like that, Grian should have known retaliation was coming. He should have seen it from miles away, but he decided that he could trust him. He _should_ trust him. Those deep purple eyes hiding his true intentions, yet something about him was... compelling. Convincing.

Now he knows why. It’s how he got Bdubs to join, as well. 

He could do so much more, now. If he’d known about the powers that came with being fused with a dragon head, he’d have done it ages ago.  
It’s how he knows the bunker is safe to enter. It’s how he can suss out redstone contraptions underneath the floor. It’s how he smells potions from far away, even if they’re sealed tightly. 

He remembers placing the dragon head on Bdubs’ head. “What a blessing!” He’d called out, and Grian supposes he’s right, in a way. He too could almost immediately feel the magic coursing through his veins. It was some getting used to, of course. But flying came easy to him, so he wasn’t worried about that.  
The purple-tinted auras around dangerous places were new. Their buzzing energy warning him of potential hazards. He could spot tripwires from miles in the sky. He could smell potion particles, and was absolutely overjoyed to find out that their effects could not penetrate his thick skin. He could hear the soft bubbling of lava, blocks and blocks beneath the surface.   
He felt invincible.

But he still felt like he was missing something. Some _one_. With two out of three Architechs already converted, he just couldn’t leave Mumbo out of the loop. He had to be a part of this, too.

So while Bdubs was still getting used to his new wings, Grian and Iskall had set their attention to cracking the number panel. Breaking into a bunker has never been easier. 

That was a new sensation, as well. The urge to convert more people. Grian took it upon himself to coordinate his new team towards victory. They would stand strong, together. They would conquer Demise, and stay alive long after that, too. They’d show everyone how strong they were. It was no surprise that their next target, False, was easy to convince. They worked together perfectly. Grian showed her around the Dragon Bro Bunker, and the two of them conquered the Deadquarters, after that. The both of them could really hone their newfound powers on their mission.

And it was strange; False couldn’t see the tripwire at the entrance of the building. She couldn’t hear the boiling lava, and she couldn’t smell the potions of harming, either. Grian entered each room first, pointing out all the traps and dangers to his fellow Bro.  
But False was cautious, light on her feet. Even if she couldn’t see the traps, she could sense them. She was quick to run and knew exactly where she was safe. Her reactions were almost... inhuman.

Grian remembers how he’d seen Iskall do similar things. Disappearing without a trace, only to reappear once the coast was clear. Surviving traps that should have killed him.  
He shrugged it off at first, as he wouldn’t want to see his Bros die. The Dragon Bros stick together, thriving in the midst of danger. Grian could feel the bond between the five of them The sense of duty to keep them all alive for as long as possible. Creating the Bro Cave only felt natural.

He supposed that Bdubs and Mumbo had similar experiences. Grian didn’t want to believe that Bdubs could _actually_ speak to the Demised, but there might be a hint of truth to his claim. Sure, their senses were enhanced, but nowhere near that level. Right?   
But then again, Mumbo has been surviving for this long, as well. That absolute spoon of a hermit. Untrappable, he is. To any outsider it would seem like he’s the luckiest hermit on the server, dancing through traps like it’s nothing. But the man had a lot of skill and the power of the ender dragon on his side. Always sleeping with one eye open; nobody even got a chance to trap him when he was AFK anymore.

Grian thinks as he enters the Bro Cave. They’ve all been saved in one way or another by becoming Dragon Bros. Some say that their dragon heads made them more paranoid, but Grian knew that it helped them see. For he could see it too.  
He wants to monitor his Bros. He wants to know more about them. He wants to know what exactly it is that gives them the edge in this game of life and death. Before he gets too cocky, before his hubris kills him. No better place to keep his data than inside of the DragonHead Quarters.

Occupied with his thoughts, he didn’t notice.

He didn’t hear.

Getting so used to the strong scent of redstone, as he dodged trap after trap after trap. Having just conquered the Deadquarters like it was nothing, the exhaustion was finally creeping in after a long day. Their numbers growing ever more, soon the dead would be no match for the Dragon Bros.

But he failed to notice at a most crucial time. The purple hue on the ceiling.

Showering down on him out of nowhere. It was too late. 

The whole cave was gone in an instant. 

The clicking of empty dispensers haunts him, even in death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wise Mumbo once said: “I’m still sure this is a cult.” and frankly, I have to agree.
> 
> We’re slowly making progress on this story :’) There’s a lot about the actual demise part of Demise, so I thought a chapter exploring the dragon bros a bit more would be in order! Feel free to ask any questions about their assigned ~magical ender dragon powers~, I’d love to tell you more about them!


	10. Eyes of yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Look into my eyes, and nothing but my eyes._   
>  _Does this look like a man who will demise?”_

It's like the universe was just against him that day. He knows very well that what he's done is deserving of punishment. He's never felt so guilty after he… After he and Bdubs lured Cleo into a trap.

Karma was out to get him. And it came in the form of an old friend, now sporting a face full of scales and bright, purple eyes.  
He never would have guessed that the first time he'd seen him in 5 years, would be the same day that he died.

But he guesses this is the way it was supposed to go.

Despite having stocked up on many magical Totems of Undying, Keralis couldn’t help but still live each day with caution. Taking the long detour instead of risking his life by using an elytra. Staying close to the ground, dancing around pressure plates and avoiding redstone like the plague.

But when Mumbo, the king of all things redstone, called him up to meet again, he was thrilled. All logic went out the window, and he rushed over to meet his old friend. He was delighted to see him, despite the horns protruding from his head, despite the intimidating, black wings on his back. It’s been so long, Keralis didn’t care what he looked like; he was just glad to hang out with his old friend again. For a brief moment, he forgot all about Demise.

Until Mumbo mentioned a trap under his industrial area. Someone was out to get him.  
Clearly, it hadn’t served it’s purpose. That’s good. Keralis couldn’t bear the thought of Mumbo being dead before he could even get a chance to catch up with him.  
Mumbo told him about the tripwire hook, and how, in his clumsiness, he’d stumbled over it, landing safely on the other side while the ground opened up into a pit behind him. Mumbo had said it felt like a _game_.  
And that’s where Keralis went wrong.

Greed glistening in his eyes; where there was a game, there were diamonds to be won. He had five totems on him, he should be able to survive. Right? He gets out one more, just to be safe.  
Yes, he had the luck of the totems on his side.

But their magic was no match for the stacks upon stacks of TNT that fell from the ceiling. 

The throw of a single egg ended it all. _Not like this._

He couldn’t believe it at first. Having woken up in a dark and damp place. He mourned not the loss of his life, but his items which were blown to bits in the incident. His axe. His armor. His diamonds. It was all gone.

And he knows he can’t hold it against Mumbo, because the poor fellow immediately came to the graveyard to see if he could find Keralis anywhere. To see if he, too, could see the dead with his superior dragon eyes.

It was true, then. The dead were still here, evident by his waking up as a ghost. As a zombie? He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care. He died three more times that day, just trying to get back to his base, each time lost in worrying thoughts of his dragon-like friends. Mumbo, but Bubbles, too. He was still alive. Keralis couldn’t find it in him to face the man. See if he _really could- No, stop that wishful thinking of yours. He can’t._

Xisuma appeared when he rose from his grave for the fourth time. “Bad day, huh?”

Keralis grunts as he wipes the dirt off his arms. "You could say that. It's karma, I'm sure."

"Karma? For what?" Xisuma cocked his head to the side questioningly. Keralis lets his gaze fall to the ground.

"Well… You know. I killed Cleo, after all. So this is my payback."

Xisuma’s brows furrowed underneath his helmet.  
"But you didn't kill her, I did."

"What- What do you mean?" Keralis mirrored X’s expression.

"I set you up. I used you. But I take full responsibility for her demise." His tone was almost... no, it was _definitely_ smug.

Keralis had to think for a minute, let it all sink in.  
"Then Bubbles… He wasn't lying-!"

"The dragons are mighty powerful when they're together, but once their leader joined our side, it was all too easy to manipulate him. You _know_ IDEA needs the diamonds. And you guys weren’t pulling your weight, so I had to do something.”

“So it was you who…”

“Of course it was me! Bdubs doesn't have the heart. It took just a little persuasion." X grins.

Persuasion... manipulate… trap… _kill_. Keralis shudders. The sound of those words sent awful images through his head. But oddly, he _liked_ it.

"You can feel it too, can't you?" Xisuma’s voice snaps him from his thoughts. “The urge to kill. To free the Warmbloods of their aggravating heartbeats.” Keralis put his hand to his chest. Silence. Serenity. But there _was_ something. A slight buzzing. A thrill. An urge.

Xisuma was right. Keralis could feel it. Having gone so long believing that his friends were all gone, he was surprisingly calm after all that transpired that day. Seeing his dead friend and business partner again, was comforting. He wasn’t bothered about silly things like his own death anymore. He didn’t care about the diamonds he’d lost- okay, maybe a little. But it was greatly overshadowed by that innate _craving_ to help his friends cross the barrier.

Who was left? Bubbles, of course, and Mumbo. Joe? Iskall? Doc, maybe? They were tough targets, and Keralis was sure that the other Demised have been hunting them for _weeks_ now. He had to catch up quickly if he was ever going to get a kill in. Xisuma’s voice once again interrupted his train of thought, but what he said brought a great smile to his face.

"But where are my manners? Let me show you around. We've got a great betting game just over there..."

So maybe the universe was against him. But the dead were on his side. He could gamble again. _He could still win._

Keralis can’t deny it. He can’t deny the flutter of excitement in his chest. The start of something new. His heart may be silent, but he likes the sound of a good bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheers for keeping up with this story and its chaotic updating schedule! I’m dying to know your thoughts! What is it that keeps you coming back? Is there something I could improve on? Let me know ツ


	11. You control it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Oh!_

The last thing he remembers is darkness. An endless void, mesmerised by its particles as they danced around the portal frame.  
Mumbo remembers letting himself fall into its embrace. It had felt like coming _home_. But the blinding light and life force being knocked out of him in an instant, upon entering, was all but welcome. He still doesn’t know how he survived that first blast, but he did. His ears were ringing for minutes after. Where Iskall somehow managed to escape the trap, Mumbo was caught like a fly.

He survived, all thanks to his Totem. But god, did it _hurt._

Not just being blown to bits and reassembled. Dying never felt good. But something about the way Iskall looked at him- like he had expected this to happen. He was unscathed. Laughing as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.  
Iskall’s nervous laugh managed to push all his buttons. He just wanted to get it over with already.

Being fused with a dragon head for so long, funky things were bound to happen. Iskall had nagged on and on about coming to the End. _Begged_ Mumbo to join him in a well-needed End raid, he’d said.  
Mumbo felt that pull, too. But he’d been smart enough not to give in. If only he’d held out a little longer.

After that first trap, he mistakenly lets his guard down. They were in the End, they were alive, and they were going to get those shulkers. Everything was supposed to be alright. They were supposed to _thrive._

The world seems a whole lot less colorful, now. His senses dull when they were once sharp. He’d dug himself out of his stupid grave. Cursing his stupid wings being gone, and walking all the way back to his stupid former Dragon Bro. His stupid friend was just carrying on with life as normal. Sorting documents and shulkers in the office of Sahara. Absolutely no respect, he had.

Mumbo knew he was being irrational, but he couldn’t help himself when he started looking through the chests in the storage closet. The satisfying clicks of shulkers opening and closing surely would alert the businessman in the other room, but Mumbo didn’t care. He was looking for something.

What? What was he looking for?

“... Mumbo?” Iskall’s voice sounds softly.  
It sounds like he’s been crying.

But upon seeing his face. Those jet black scales. His mystifying purple eyes, even as they’re glazed over with tears. The horns protruding from his skull like a powerful beast. Mumbo remembers. The powers he lost. The life he lost. The feeling of falling behind as his friend continues to live on without a second thought.

His tears weren’t real. They couldn’t be. Iskall had known about the traps and he lured Mumbo in like the spoon he was.

The flashes.

The explosions.

It happened in the blink of an eye, but the feeling of being torn apart at the seams echoes through his now cold body.

TNT.

  
  


He was looking for TNT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What if Mumbo _did_ find a block of tnt? What if he DID demise iskall just like that? He came around really fast, didn’t he? Surely being so close to the end of the game, the intent to kill becomes stronger and stronger...


End file.
